


Mutual Decision

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Follow the North Star [42]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 12:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13364715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “This is such a dumb conversation,” Roman says. “Weren’t we supposed to be talking about a game plan or something? How did it even turn into this?”He doesn’t know why he’s asking that. Harry Chalmers. It turned into this because of Harry Chalmers.





	Mutual Decision

Roman’s never been to Harry’s place before, and it’s kind of nerve-wracking to go for the first time in the context of a ‘talk’, even one he suggested in the first place. Harry lives close to him, which isn’t surprising. Most of the guys who have to worry about the whole suburban experience for their kids — unlike his parents when Tomáš and Roman were growing up — huddle right around downtown St. Paul, close enough to make schlepping to practice and arena a quick ride.

They parted ways at MSP because Roman had to go check on his baby girl. He figured Harry would mock him for it, or get annoyed at Roman putting off a conversation he asked for in the first place, but Harry had smiled instead, one of the nice ones Roman doesn’t see a lot of but is growing dangerously enamored with, and told him to take his time.

Roman doesn’t exactly take his time, but he doesn’t hurry either, and it’s close to two hours after they land when he parks behind Harry’s car. He doesn’t see Connie’s, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s the first one here. He doesn’t know why the thought of getting here before Connie freaks him out so much. 

Except, on second thought, he does. Harry’s on his best behavior around Connie — such as it is — and Roman doesn’t think fucking him has changed the fact that Harry is emphatically _not_ on his best behavior around Roman. Not that Roman even wants that. It’d feel false. It isn’t, with Connie, he knows that, can see Harry soften the second Connie comes anywhere near him, but the idea of Harry being sweet in Roman’s direction is just — Roman mentally shudders. Harry being his asshole self in his direction is his thing he guesses. Lucky for him that shows no signs of abating any time soon.

Any concerns Roman had about an awkward stand off until Connie gets there are quashed when Connie opens the door.

“Where’s—” Roman asks, before he sees Harry wrangling his dog in the hall. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Connie says, then, “Come in?”

Roman doesn’t know if Connie just got here or if he carpooled with Harry, if they’ve been hanging out — or something a little more than hanging out — while Roman checked in on Zuza and let her jump all over him until she tired herself out enough for a leisurely walk. Roman tries not to let it bother him. If he starts getting caught up in thoughts of what Connie and Harry are up to when he’s not around, he’s going to end up with the exact same problem he had in the first place. Maybe an even bigger one.

“How’s the dog?” Harry asks, after he’s let his own dog go. His dog takes this as an invitation to suspiciously sniff Roman, concentrating on his knees. Roman bets he can smell Zuza on him. He thinks, a little hysterically, that might be a metaphor.

“Good,” Roman says. “Sorry I took awhile, she was a little excited.”

Harry shrugs. “Dog comes first,” he says, with zero apparent sarcasm, maybe because his dog — Beau, Roman thinks, and it’s confirmed when Harry croons his name — has quit sniffing at Roman and returned to headbutt Harry’s fingers until Harry pets him.

“Living room?” Harry says, then, kind of awkwardly, like he’s got a knee-jerk need to be a good host clashing with the rest of him, “You want a water, or Gatorade or something?”

“I’m good,” Roman says.

“Well, I want one,” Harry says contrarily, and comes into the living room juggling three bottles of water.

“Hydration’s important,” Harry says, and shoves one of the bottles in Roman’s hands so he has no choice but to take it.

Harry’s just got a couch, no chairs, so they settle down on it, a tight fit once Beau scrambles up between Connie and the arm of the couch, putting his head on Connie’s knee, and looking up at him with the most infatuated doggie look he can muster. Roman feels the dude. Harry’s in the middle, reminding Roman of the defacto rule when you’re crammed three to a backseat — smallest dude gets the half assed spot they call the middle seat. His shoulder’s digging into Roman’s arm a little, and Roman pulls away, draping his arm across the couch like some cliche yawn and stretch move. 

“Seriously?” Harry asks. “You making the moves on me in front of my boyfriend?”

Connie snorts.

“Your bony shoulder was cutting a hole into my arm,” Roman says.

“Fuck you, I’m not bony,” Harry says. “You’re taking up half the couch with your fat ass.”

That’s not much of an insult considering it’s basically a prerequisite for the job. “You can do better, Harold,” Roman says, and Harry gives him the finger.

“You wanted to talk, Roman?” Connie asks, before Roman can give into the temptation to flick the back of Harry’s head.

“Yeah,” Roman says. “I, uh.”

“Uh?” Harry prompts, when Roman doesn’t say anything.

Roman pulls his arm back, bony shoulder or no, rubs a thumb over the ridges along the edge of his water bottle’s lid. “I’m not really sure how to start?” he says. “Or like. Finish. Or anything the middle.” 

“You’re the one who suggested this,” Harry says. “And you haven’t even figured out what you’re going to say?”

“This isn’t exactly a situation I have a lot of experience with,” Roman says. “And I doubt there’s a handbook.”

“Probably is,” Harry says. “There’s handbooks for bomb making, there’s probably a handbook for this.”

“Why do you know that,” Roman says.

“Why do you know that brass knuckles aren’t legal in Minnesota?” Harry asks.

“I already told you why,” Roman says. 

“Um,” Connie says. “Guys?”

“Yeah, babe?” Harry asks.

“Why were you talking about brass knuckles?” Connie asks.

Harry looks over at Roman, like he’s trying to decide whether it’s a good idea to mention the whole secret meeting. Roman figures there’s no point not mentioning it — the only reason it was secret in the first place was because telling Connie about it would have stressed him the fuck out. The situation’s changed — and isn’t _that_ is an understatement — and considering the whole point of this is to lay their cards on the table, keeping shit from one another isn’t a good start.

“We had a secret meeting,” Roman says.

“You can’t call it a secret meeting if you tell people about it,” Harry says. “C’mon, Novák.”

“It was temporarily secret,” Roman says.

“What secret meeting?” Connie asks, sounding frustrated.

Roman lets Harry explain it, only interrupting when Harry makes Roman’s comments about the brass knuckles sound _way_ more threatening than they were.

“You’re like twice my size!” Harry says. “And you’re a goon!”

“I resent that,” Roman says. It’s what he got drafted for, probably, to do that, but the role had mostly died out by the time Roman was getting settled in the league. Fitzy’s boyfriend was probably one of the last guys doing it as a full time job. Roman’s expected to get in there if one of their guys is hurt, supposed to protect them so they _don’t_ get hurt, but he hasn’t even dropped his gloves this season. 

“You got suspended twice last season!” Harry says. “You kneed a guy in the face!”

“That was an accident,” Roman says. 

Harry snorts, and even Connie gives him a skeptical face.

“Mostly,” Roman amends. It _was_ kind of an accident, but also the guy is a fucking asshole who gets away with playing exactly like Roman scot free, because he’s on the top line. Roman’s been suspended for shit that guy hasn’t even gotten penalties for. It’s patently bullshit. He forfeited 33,000 in salary during his suspension as punishment, and he’s sure as shit not losing sleep over it. “And quit sidetracking me.”

“You haven’t even said anything yet!” Harry says.

That is — fair.

“Okay,” Roman says, and trawls through all the shit he wants to say, discarding what he probably shouldn’t. It’s best to start with the most important, he figures. “So uh. What is this?”

He can feel Harry shrug against him. Connie, unexpectedly, is the one that answers.

“I don’t know what it is,” he says. “But, I kind of know what I’d like it to be?”

“Go ahead,” Roman says gently when Connie doesn’t elaborate.

“I mean,” Connie says, petting back Beau’s ears. “I like both of you? And you like each other, I think, right?”

“Like’s a strong word,” Harry says dryly, and Roman gives into the urge to flick him this time.

“Ow, asshole!” Harry says. 

“Quit interrupting and let Connie talk,” Roman says. Harry looks mulish, but he shuts up, which is enough, Roman guesses.

“I think we should try?” Connie says. “Like — see if it works with the three of us? It worked, um, before. I mean—”

“The sex rocked?” Harry says, and Connie’s the one who flicks him this time. “Hey!”

“It’s not about the sex!” Connie says. “I mean, not…entirely. I don’t mean the sex. I mean everything.”

“Basically you want to try out, what, a full relationship?” Roman clarifies. “Like, ‘hi, I’m Connie, here are my two boyfriends who are also kind of dating?’”

“It sounds silly when you say it,” Connie mumbles.

“I’m not trying to diss it, seriously,” Roman says, reaching over to rub a thumb over the knuckles of Connie’s free hand. “And I don’t think it’s silly, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page. So like, you want to date both of us.”

“I think you’ve known that for awhile?” Connie says, mouth quirking up a bit.

“And instead of Harry threatening me with brass knuckles—” Roman says.

“You threatened me!” Harry squawks. 

“— We’re basically doing the same thing,” Roman finishes.

“Who says I want to date you,” Harry says, but without any actual force behind the words. Roman doesn’t know when he’s started to figure out when Harry’s being obstinate for shits and giggles and when Harry’s actually protesting, but apparently he knows the difference now. “So what, are we like…double dating or nothing? I mean, not double dating, obviously, that’s not the right word, but like. You know what I mean.”

“I mean, it’s not reasonable to say we’ve got to hang out all three of us or not at all,” Roman says. “Like, no offense, Harry—”

“Offense obviously taken,” Harry interrupts.

“I haven’t even said anything offensive yet!” Roman argues.

“No one ever uses ‘no offense’ then says something nice,” Harry says. “C’mon.”

“No offense, Harry, but you have a nice smile,” Roman says.

Harry gives him the finger.

“You do have a nice smile,” Connie pipes up, and Harry smiles that nice smile right at him. 

“Double standards,” Roman mutters.

“Ev meant it,” Harry says. “You were just trying to prove me wrong.”

“I can mean it and try to prove you wrong at the same time,” Roman says.

Harry rolls his eyes. 

“I agree with Roman,” Connie says, then when Harry frowns at him, “About the hanging out. But I mean, about your smile too. Though I kind of said that already.”

Harry’s smile could be better classified as a _beam_ right now. Roman doesn’t know how Connie can face it full on without getting blinded by it. 

“So it’s okay if we hang out separately sometimes, right?” Roman says. “That works?”

Connie gives a nod of assent, and Harry does a slight shrug that seems to mean the same thing.

“Okay, but what about sex?” Harry says, then, “C’mon Ev, you literally came on my face two days ago, stop looking like I’m telling you about the birds and the bees.”

Connie puts his hands over his face. Roman doesn’t know if it’s to hide his scandalized expression or his shame. 

“I still would not believe you’ve ever had sex if I hadn’t personally been present every time,” Harry says.

“Chalmers,” Roman snaps.

“I meant it affectionately,” Harry protests, then, quieter, presumably to Connie, “I meant it affectionately, babe.”

It’s not even — Roman’s caught on the fact that Harry was Connie’s first and his latest and everything in between. And they _work_ , Roman wouldn’t have thought that was possible but they do. Connie blunts some of Harry’s innumerable sharp edges, though not all of them, Harry makes Connie laugh, and somehow knows the right thing to say with him, or maybe just accidentally lands on it because he talks so much he has to hit it eventually. They worked in the hotel room, and they presumably work when Roman isn’t there at all. He’s just a bonus or something. Fundamentally extraneous.

“What’s that face?” Harry asks. “I don’t like that face.”

“It’s just my face,” Roman says.

“I don’t like your face,” Harry says.

Connie takes his face out of hands. “Harry,” he says.

“Okay, it’s a moderately good face,” Harry says. “I guess. It’s not the worst. And your eyes are pretty okay too. Mouth — your mouth is fucking ridiculous. Stop smiling, you smug ass. Nose though, man — how many times you broken that thing?”

“ _Harry_ ,” Connie says, over Roman’s “Twice, asshole.” He feels himself smiling a little despite himself. Somehow Harry has once again landed on the right thing to say by being as insulting as possible. Roman wonders if he knows it’s charming. Though, it probably isn’t to most people. Roman’s got to be out of his mind.

“I must be fucking nuts to like you,” Roman says.

“Hey,” Harry says. “You calling Evan nuts? Evan, Roman’s calling you nuts.”

“You’re _nice_ to Connie,” Roman says.

“I’m nice to everyone,” Harry says, and even he can’t keep a straight face at that statement. 

Even _Connie_ can’t.

“Really, Evan?” Harry asks, scowling as Connie silently shakes with laughter hard enough that a disgruntled Beau jumps off the couch and curls up on the floor, looking offended.

“You just asked him how many times he broke his nose!” Connie says.

“It was just a question!” Harry says.

“And said you don’t like his face!” Connie says.

“I retracted that!” Harry says. “I said it was a moderately good face.”

“Out of my fucking mind,” Roman says, and it’s awkward, kissing someone when you’re both grinning, but him and Harry manage it okay.

“I kind of like your face,” Harry says, when Roman pulls back. 

“Thanks, Chalmers,” Roman says.

“This is supposed to be where you tell me you like mine,” Harry says. “For the record.”

“It’s a moderately good face,” Roman says.

“Thanks, Novák,” Harry says.

“You’re both being completely ridiculous,” Connie says. “And you made me scare Beau away.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry says, darting forward to kiss Connie’s cheek. “We like your face too, Beau included.”

Roman would argue Harry using ‘we’ without consulting him, but obviously he likes Connie’s face, so.

“This is such a dumb conversation,” Roman says. “Weren’t we supposed to be talking about a game plan or something? How did it even turn into this?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking that. Harry Chalmers. It turned into this because of Harry Chalmers.

“We were talking about sex,” Harry says, with this look like ‘obviously’. Because obviously talking about sex leads to dissing Roman’s nose. _Obviously_.

“I feel like you have an opinion you just haven’t stated,” Roman says. “Yet,” he adds, because that’s inevitable.

Harry shrugs a little. “Keep it us three for now, see how that goes?” he says. “I’m cool with hanging out separately, and I’m not saying forever or anything, but I feel like if we start out not knowing, like, if the other two are fucking constantly while you’re not around--”

“Yeah,” Roman says. “Connie?” He checks, because both things are more for him and Harry, probably, since it’s not like they’ve spent any length of time hanging out without Connie before. 

“That sounds good,” Connie says.

“Good,” Harry says. “So like, everything’s discussed.”

“Well—” Roman says.

“Everything’s discussed, can we have the sex we were talking about now?” Harry says.

“Harry!” Connie says, half-laughing, but he doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s arguing.

Roman doesn’t feel all that inclined to argue either. “How big’s your bed?” he asks.

“Big enough,” Harry says, and it isn’t, quite, but they make do.


End file.
